Who I Am
by Wednesday Grimm
Summary: Poseidon is not thy father, Perseus Jackson...but where dost thou parentage lie? Since people bugged me into doing this, Hades is his father. Happy?
1. Capture the Hellhound

Clarisse yowled

I fell face-first into a pile of dead leaves, sword flailing out of my hand and my forehead banging onto my shield, creating an enormous welt. At least the leaves cushioned my fall. With luck like mine, I'll be lucky to live for another forty-eight hours.

Clarisse shrieked with glee. Her goons laughed, kicking me with their boots and wolf whistling. I winced.

I swear I will never listen to Annabeth again.

My first capture the flag, and I'm already being tagged as a weakling. Meanwhile, _she _was out there saving the world and cutting the reds to pieces, and I'm the one bearing humiliation the size of Atlas's load. I didn't even know what border patrol was, until I started getting pulverized. I mean, come on, can't anyone say 'heads up' anymore?

"Heads up, punk!" Clarisse yelled, and knocked me flat again with her shield.

Okay, I take that back.

The Ares kids were all over me, kicking and jabbing with their swords and spears. If I managed move a muscle, I'll be sliced to ground beef, no contest with the Minotaur. My armor was already deeply dented. I'd be relieved if I could even get it off when this was over.

Our troops weren't helping.

"Weakling! Weakling! Weakling!" Clarisse's yell soon became a chant, chorused all around me.

"No maiming," I managed to say as a sword grazed my arm.

"Oops," the Ares guy growled, smirking, "I guess I lose my dessert privilege."

I glanced blearily around. It looked as if most of the Ares people were there, laughing and mocking. Pray to the gods that Annabeth was smart enough to get the flag now.

Shut up, I told myself. She's the daughter of the Goddess of Wisdom and Strategy. Of course she's smart enough.

Suddenly, I was unmercifully shoved into a dead peony bush, snapping the thin branches as I crashed into the brittle leaves.

"Die! You will die for besmirching the name of Ares!"

Oh, gods. I swear that girl's part troll.

I couldn't move. I was trapped, the branches entwined in my arms and legs, Clarisse's stupid electric spear pointed to my chest. I felt all hope leaving me. It was over. I was going to die in the hands of a half god half troll moron with electricity on her side. No way was I going to get myself out of this.

In me, this little spark of decency suddenly ignited.

_Look on the bright side, _it crooned, _at least you can use your abilities for revenge._

What abilities?

"Memento mori,' I said softly, abruptly. Clarisse jabbed her spear a little harder onto my chest and said, "What's that, punk?"

Suddenly, without knowing how or why, I yelled, "_Memento mori!" _and lashed from the branches. Clarisse staggered back, shocked. It would only be later I would realize I yelled 'remember you will die' in Latin. I didn't even know I knew Latin.

So much for all of Chiron's classes.

I jabbed and lashed, my sword twisting from bronze to solid black iron. The Ares folk yelled and stumbled back, but not before feeling my wrath. I stood on my shield; I didn't need it. Even Clarisse backed off when she realized I wasn't cowering anymore.

"_Erre es korakas!_" I yelled, the same thing I heard Annabeth tell Clarisse when I first met her. I stabbed with my sword, sending up sparks in their armour, deflected, dodged. I was in my own element, having the time of my life.

_Thoink, thoink, thoink._

Oh, finally. Typical of Annabeth to send help when I didn't need it. The blunt arrows knocked agaianst the reds' armor, sending them tottering back, cursing. I grinned, ignoring the multiple deep cuts on my legs and forearms.

Curse you, Annabeth Chase. Curse you.

"Percy!" came her voice from behind me, and I turned to find her staring at my sword. "How did you do that?"

I noticed my iron sword.

"I…I don't know." A first wave of realization began to dawn to me. I had single-handedly pulverized the entire Ares cabin.

_Whoa._

Annabeth looked disturbed.

"Black iron is Hades' metal. He…" Her eyes suddenly widened and she staggered back from me. "Oh, no…he…you…Chiron…"

A scream ignited behind me.

"_Clarisse!_"

I whipped around to find a lot of legs and fur. A growl worthy of the Minotaur shook the whole forest, a deep rumble of evil. A dog the size of an angry papa rhino was on top of Clarisse, jaws wide open, drool dripping –

" _Stop." _The word escaped my mouth before I realized what was happening. Annabeth was still backing off, mouth open. The hellhound turned toward me, and I wondered if this was a good idea after all.

"Um…sit?"

Oh, yeah, Percy. That was real smart.

The hellhound continued to stare at me, bloodred eyes filled with…curiosity?

"Sit." The monster sat.

This was _so_ cool.

"Stand ready! My bow!" Chiron's voice sounded behind me, deeper, more warlike. I whipped around a second time.

"No! Don't kill it! I can...um…" Chiron stared at me. I blushed.

"Don't shoot it yet. Wait. I, uh…" I turned back to the hellhound. This was too embarrassing.

"Stand." Okay, let me explain the weird commands. I've never had a pet before, not one that actually listened to me, anyway, so this was sort of a chance to get the feel. My mom always said we were too poor, and Gabe wouldn't allow even a fish into our apartment since he moved in.

Thus this.

"Roll over." It rolled over – right in Clarisse.

"_Get off Clarisse!" _This came out harsher than I meant. The hellhound immediately got up off Clarisse, and it was…wimpering? Okay, this was getting weirder and weirder.

"Tell it to return to the Fields of Punishment." Annabeth's voice sounded beside me. "Tell it to go away."

I paused.

"Uh, I command you to return to the Fields of Punishment." It panted at me, wagging its tail. "Um, immediately."

It started melting into the earth, melting into a pool of shadow until it disappeared. I turned, where Chiron was looking at me oddly.

"This isn't good," Annabeth murmured beside me. I slowly walked up to Chiron.

"Show me your sword, Percy." I handed him my once-bronze-sword-turned-iron.

He stared at it for a moment, then said in a slightly quivering voice, "It is determined."

My heart skipped a beat.

"My…"

"Your father." Chiron sounded odd, almost mechanical. "Hades, Ruler of the Underworld, Master of the Furies, Lord of the Dead."

"Hail Perseus Jackson, son of the Mighty God of Death.


	2. I Get a Quest and a Nickname

**A/N Thank you all for the fantastic reviews. I enjoy writing AU, and it's good to have people encouraging me, I never know how my story will turn out. I believe this is the first AU with Percy having a different god for a father... I'd like to challenge you guys to try this out too!**

**Grimm**

The next day I got sent to the Big House.

Dionysus was there, playing pinoloche with Chiron. He was wearing his Hawaiian shirt and had his purple hair in a cowlick, his plump little hands holding the cards just so, so that no one but he could see them. When I entered he gave a little sigh, as if I'd interrupted the most important thing in his entire life (Which was pretty impressive, since he'd been alive maybe three thousand years).

"So," Mr. D muttered, setting his cards down. "Our new celebrity."

"Sit down, Percy." Chiron looked tired. He set his cards down too, and clopped over so he stood next to Mr D, still looking regal and impressive but in a kind of weary way. I immediately felt guilt rise up to my throat. Here he was, already with all this pressure training kids to fight Ancient Greek monsters, and I had to turn up with the most dangerous god in the twelve Olympians for a father. That would make anyone crack.

I sat. Dionysus shuffled his cards for another moment, then set them down again with another sigh.

"I have the strongest urge now to set every atom of you aflame," he began, but Chiron cut him off.

"We have your best interests at heart, Percy," he said, "and it's your choice if you want – "

"Chiron here seems to think I can't blow you up if I want to. I would have done so long ago if he had not reminded me that it is my job to keep you brats safe from harm." Mr D looked as if he was a kid denied his favourite toy. I felt grateful.

"Spontaneous combustion_ is_ a form of harm, Mr D." Chiron reminded him.

"Nonsense," Dionysus waved him off. "Boy won't feel a thing. Anyway, since Chiron has convinced me out of that particular feat, I have decided to turn you in to Olympus and let the other gods do the rest. It would save me a good amount of time and trouble, to say the least, and I simply mustn't waste any of that on a lowly hero like you, though you seem to be a special case. In this case, old Corpse Breath won't be able to save you. Majority shall do the rest."

He eyed me beadily, as if he expected me to understand anything he said. I just gawked back, and might have said something real smart, like, "Gubbah Goobah Wha?"

"Mr D…" Chiron warned.

"Anyway," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "I must be off. Emergency meeting, you know, I must not miss that. Father will add another hundred years to my confinement if I elude this one…" Mumbling to himself, he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Chiron turned to me.

"So, Percy? Do you accept this quest?"

I blinked. Throughout the whole thing I had been tuning in and out, but I was pretty sure there wasn't any mention of a quest.

"Wh-what quest?" I sounded wimpy, I know, but I wasn't able to manage anything above that. It was just too creepy, with the entire Burst-Me-Into-Flames-And-Skewer-Me-Like-A-Shishkabob episode and the shock of finding that I was one with the Underworld. Grover, who had sidled up next to me through the entire thing, gave a little bleat of terror.

Chiron looked grave.

"You must help Olympus, Percy. We are at the edge of a full-blown war…"

Grover whimpered.

"Lord Zeus' master bolt has been stolen."

Lighting flashed outside, a net of pure electricity lighting up the gloomy sky. The sea sloshed vehemently, throwing up waves that were ten feet high, as thunder rumbled, sounding like the canine growl of the hellhound I had commanded yesterday.

I blinked again.

"By who?"

"By _whom._" Once a teacher, always a teacher. "By Poseidon, apparently. Though now he suspects Hades."

Grover was now eating pinoloche cards like potato chips.

"Why?"

"Because of _you_." Grover neighed and mumbled through his cards in fear.

"Look, Percy," he whimpered, "Zeus had never trusted Poseidon, nor Poseidon to Zeus. But _both _never trusted Hades, ever. He's the most dangerous, secretive god of them all. Zeus and Poseidon had an argument on the Winter solstice, the last annual council of the gods, the day the bolt was stolen, so obviously Zeus first suspected Poseidon. Then you turn up, a son of Hades, so now Poseidon has someone to point a finger at and Zeus has another likely suspect. You were in New York on the winter solstice. You could easily have sneaked in and taken the bolt."

"But I didn't!" I didn't get why everyone was so cold toward my dad. Okay, he's the god of death and despair, but that didn't make him evil. My mom said my dad was the best man she had ever encountered, and I believe her. I don't care what everyone else says. If she said he was wonderful, then he was.

Chiron sighed.

"I know you didn't, Percy, but now there is not enough evidence for judgement. Therefore," he held up a hand before I could interrupt, "there is time to redeem yourself, to reclaim your honor, and your father's. Zeus had demanded his lightning bolt back by the summer solstice. Judgement for both you and Poseidon are on the same date. You will have time for your quest."

"_What_ quest?" I was mad now. Zeus was blaming my father and me for something we didn't do. Nothing angered me more than being accused of something that wasn't my fault. Believe me, I have the experience.

"You will find Zeus' lightning bolt." Thunder boomed again outside.

"What? I don't even know where it is!" I admit, I was taken aback. Here I was, a twelve-year-old ADHD dyslexic kid, with no mom, being asked to retrieve a weapon that had more power than a dozen nuclear bombs. You'd probably be surprised too.

"I admit, I would have liked to train you more." Chiron smiled ruefully. "However, there is so little time, and a quest is long and hard, especially for a hero as young as you. As for the whereabouts of the bolt, it is most likely it was hidden near the prime suspect of the case. My suspicions would concern the Underworld."

I felt my breath stick to my throat.

"I have to go…to my father?"

He bowed his head.

"Yes. Young Grover must go with you, being your protector…and a third party has already volunteered."

Grover looked worried.

"I don't have to go, you know. I can stay. You don't have to have me along. Can't the master bolt be in somewhere like Florida? Or Maine? Maine's supposed to be very nice this time of year…" He trailed off, and turned a tender shade of green.

"I accept." Lightning boomed again, and flares of lightning erupted, white-hot in the gloomy sky. Grover nudged me.

"Do you really…want me along?" he whispered.

"'Course I do, man." I slapped him on the back. I saw his frightened face and added, " But you don't have to go. I can just leave with this other person…"

"No, no. I'll come." Grover looked nauseated at the very idea. I quickly turned away before things got nasty and asked Chiron, " So, uh, where is the Underworld?"

"Do you not know?" Chiron looked at me oddly, as if it should be something I should know. "The Underworld moves like Olympus, following the heart of the west. It is always in the west of the heart…

"The entrance of the underworld is in Los Angeles."

I blew a strand of hair out of my eyes from the corner of my mouth.

"So, I, uh, have to travel across the whole country to get there? Um, so I hop on a plane – "

"Your dumber than I though, Corpse Breath."

I started.

Annabeth Chase appeared beside Chiron, holding her Yankees cap as if she'd just taken it off. She looked stern standing there, with her blonde hair in tangles and wrinkles creasing her tanned brow.

"Think about it for one second, Percy Jackson. You fly, you die. Air is Zeus' domain, and you're his prime suspect, remember? Or are you too dumb for that?"

I shuffled my feet uncomfortably.

"Percy, meet your third quest member," Chiron said, stern.

"WHAT?" I shouted, as Annabeth crossed her arms and turned her back on me.

"You're stupid, Skeleton Brain, because I say so, and if your going on this stupid quest, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up." Her glare was piercing, but I glared back. It was a few moments before Chiron cleared his throat to get our attention.

"Is this going to be a problem?"

"No!" Annabeth and I said at the same time. He smiled. Score one for Chiron; Percy, zero.

"Now, you three better get packing. You leave tomorrow at nine, or Mr D will combust you into barbecue."


	3. The Prophecy of Failure

I didn't know what the Oracle was, but Annabeth led me up to the attic in the Big House the next day and told me, "Stay put." She also gave me the Evil Eye.

I thought, This couldn't be good.

The place was dingy, with these things like old war helmets and four-foot-wide shields that would've been antique if they weren't busted up big time. There was one shield shriveled up so bad it looked like a dragon puked fire and acid on it (When I asked Annabeth later, this appeared to be the case.) They also had little paper labels on them too, but these were really faded or stained or eaten away with mold, which made me sort of wonder how long all the junk had been there.

There was also this huge shelf over the side with a bunch of pickled...stuff. Like claws and eyeballs and snouts floatying in this gross yellowy liquid that smelled sort of alcoholic but made my eyes burn when I got too close. Right beside it was this huge thing that looked reptilish, a great head with slit-out eyes and double rows of shark teeth.

The plaque read: Hydra Head #1, Woodstock, NY 1969

Then I saw the mummy.

It wasn't really what you'd expect a mummy to look like. No bandages or anything, though it did have the shriveled up body and sunken eyes that were hanging out of its sockets, and it appeared to be wearing a sort of wrap-around thing that was maybe substituting for a summer dress. It was shrunken, sort of with sun-blackened skin and bones jutting like Angelina Jolie's. I crept a little closer, tentative, when it exploded.

I stumbled backwards. It didn't really explode, of course. It was just engulfed in a lot of light. Still, it was enough to seriously freak me out, but when I reached for the trap door, it slammed shut. I was trapped.

Great, stuck in a dingy attic that could barely hold my weight with a mummy on a bad hair day. I didn't think things could get any worse, but of course, I was wrong.

Hissing green smoke issued from her mouth and eyes and swirled around like in some mystical orbit. The mummy was still stock-still, but I head a voice hissing in my head, thick and mystic.

_I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask._

I felt my mouth go dry. It wasn't because the mummy was talking or anything. I was getting used to stuff like that. It just was that, I could feel the power issuing from her, the thick green mist that was swirling around. Don't ask me how. But I could feel that the mummy wasn't the real thing, just a vessel, for an ancient...thing. Like the Three Fates. The power was old, powerful, not human. It made a lump in my throat even as I thought about it.

I swallowed.

"What is my destiny?"

Cheesy, I know, like some sort of thing you'd hear in old movies. But I couldn't think of anything else to say. My heart was beating in my chest so fast I thought it was going to explode.

The mist condensed in front of me. It swirled into a scene, with...Gabe. Smelly Gabe, my ex-stepdad. He was sitting at the poker table playing cards with his buddies. I almost expected him to snarl at me for cash, it was so real.

He turned toward me and said:

You will go West and find the Lord of Despair

His friend on the left turned:

A heart will be broken and you will see to its repair

The guy on the right put down a card:

A soul will be taken, yet by one you would believe

Finally Eddie, our building supe, delivered the last line:

You will save what was stolen, but you will lose and be deceived

The mist began to be sucked back into the mummy's mouth. I stood stupidly with my mouth gaping for a moment, too dumbstruck to do anything. Then I regained the use of my senses and said, "Hey, wait! What? What do you mean? Who's the Lord of Despair?"

The mummy retracted against the wall, and it closed its eyes and mouth tight, as if they really hadn't been open for the last millenia.

My audience with the Oracle was over.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

"So? What?" Grover probed as I sank into an understuffed armchair.

"Uh, I'm going to find the bolt," I said weakly. Annabeth, who was sitting by Chiron, arched an eyebrow. I shifted uncomfortably.

"We need to know the whole prophecy," Chiron said gently, "Precisely what the Oracle said. It is critical."

"Uh...I will go west and meet the Lord of Despair..." I felt my mouth go dry. "A heart will be broken and I'll see to its repair...a soul will be taken, yet—yet by one you would believe..." Grover's eyes widened and Chiron leaned forward. "You will save what was stolen..."

The three were staring at me.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

The three were staring at me.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "I don't remember."

I could tell they didn't believe me.

I was fine with that.

After a about a minute of silence, Chiron said, "Remember, Percy, the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Do not dwell on them. Just pay attention to what is at hand, and allow events that are to come to arrive before you change them."

I think he knew I was holding back.

Suddenly, Annabeth was announcing she had to go to archery practice. Chiron got up too, and gave me a long sad look before he left with her. Grover was paying so much attention to his Diet Coke can I didn't want to bother him.

I left pondering the prophecy.

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The night air was warm and brisk at the same time, and I savored it as I walked slowly toward the Hermes cabin. Asofar, most of the Hermes kids moved their sleeping bags away from mine whenever I went into the cabin. I knew it wasn't because they didn't want to intrude my personal space.

My head was full of the prophecy. I felt weary, alert, and hopeless at the same time. The Oracle had predicted about all the worst things that could ever happen to somebody. To lose a soul, to break a heart, to lose and be decieved. It was like a thousand-year-old spirit's way of saying, "Oh, by the way, you fail." I was just about ready to give up. I kicked some gravel up as I neared the cabin door.

I stepped forward, but I couldn't get in.

There was like some invisible barrier preventing me from entering. Without thinking, I punched it, hard, and just about broke my fingers.

Maybe Hermes had rigged it up. Maybe Zeus. I felt too furious to care.

"CURSE YOU!" I yelled at the sky, not only for my fingers, the accusation, the shunning—it was for my life, my existence, the very fact that Hades was my father that prevented me from entering the cabin. "CURSE YOU!"

I snarled and turned away.

"FINE! IF THAT'S THE WAY YOU'RE GOING TO PLAY IT, FINE!" I couldn't deal with this. I couldn't. I turned toward the woods, where it was dark as night. Who knew what was in there—but I headed for it anyway.

I could feel a burning tear trickling down my icy cheek.


End file.
